Maybe
by Kirke
Summary: ListerRimmer slash. It's good to have someone that takes care of you when you feel chewed and spat out


**Title: **Maybe

**Claim: **Arnold Rimmer/David Lister

**Word Count: **1209

**Rating: **PG

**Author's Notes: **Written for fanfic100. In a way, it's a companion piece to 'Perhaps'. No need to read it to know it what's going on but it would help!

MAYBE

Ever heard the saying: 'It's always the little things that matter the most.'? Believe it!

Even the biggest, most spectacular changes, the most colossal disasters happened, not because some star exploded but because one atom took the wrong turn or one gene got misplaced. There's no such thing as 'Hitler won the Second World War' universe but there is a 'Jerry Blithers from Kensington fall asleep at his watch' one, in which this incident led to the other incidents that allowed Hitler to win the war.

You see, God, in His infinite wisdom, had decided that there's no such thing like 'the right thing to do' and seeing, as you can't get a job like that if you don't know what you're doing, I'd say that that was a right thing to do. So, since the beginning of Everything, there had been created so many different universes, that writing all those zeros after 1 would take a lifetime. Every single twist, every choice, every decision that is made, no matter where or by whom, matters.

There are, of course, twin universes, that have been developing together till some point and, after the split, try to still be as much true to each other as possible, they are the famous 'what if's universes.

Take this man for example, he's walking down the road and in about a minute he'll be given a choice: turn left or right. Such a simple thing, yet, it will create a chain of events, that will change the life of not only this single man but over a thousand people, their friends and relatives, a whole race of not-yet-existing humanoids and, of course, a cat.

Oh, look! He turned right! But wait, wasn't he suppose to turn left? Wasn't he suppose to, in just few minutes, find a female cat and smuggle her onboard that hideous red ship that is currently around the orbit?

If you read the few earlier paragraphs closely, then you know that the answer is always: 'no'.

Lister marched stiffly in the direction of the cabin he shared with Rimmer, jawing and stretching along the way. He had just spent last eight hour lying flat on his back under one of the transporters, helping a few technicians to get the smegging thing going. He didn't need to do that, it definitely wasn't his job but the guys were desperate and he was the nice one after all. He paid for that good deed of his with cramps and spasms and the only thing he could think of was a warm shower and a good night sleep.

When he entered the room his roommate was already dressed to sleep and, stretched on his bunk, read a book that looked suspiciously similar to 'Greatest Historical Carnages vol. 12'. The resemblance could be explained easily, as this was, in fact, the said book. Lister recognized it immediately, because he was the one that bought Rimmer the whole set- eighteen thick tomes about who killed who, how, when, why and how many other innocent bystanders were slaughtered in the process. Well, ok, technically speaking he didn't buy it but won in a game of poker from one guy on Deimos but really, Rimmer didn't have to know that, right? Especially not after he had shown Lister his gratitude for a whole weekend, after they had locked themselves in a hotel room for forty-eight hours. For once Lister could be grateful for Rimmer's obsession with military and history – he made an excellent Napoleon Bonaparte and he had brought his own clothes too!

Unfortunately, as much as he was glad that his bunkmate enjoyed his present, this wasn't the book he was suppose to be reading. "Don't you have an exam tomorrow?" he frowned, crossing his arms, cringing a bit, when abused muscles protested, sending an 'ouch! hurts' message straight to his brain.

Rimmer didn't looked up as much as glanced from over the pages "Yup"

Sighing, Lister walked to the bunk and gazed down at his apparently unconcerned boyfriend. "You know, I kind of expected you to prepare like usual. Shouldn't you be running around the ship panicking or tattoo 'I'm not a fish' on your forehead?" Only few months earlier such a jab would earn Lister an equally punchy reply but since they'd become lovers, Rimmer slowly learned to accept the fact that not every taunt meant to hurt and that not all of them deserved a reply. He must have decided that this was one of those occasions, because he merely put the book down on his chest and regarded Lister critically. "You look like hell and you smell like something that dropped from under the donkey's tail. I assume that hard work still isn't a friend of yours, Dave"

As every other time when Rimmer used his name, Lister felt… defeated, unable to defend himself from whatever his bunkmate was implying. His brain turned into pretty pink goo and all brain cells marveled how wonderful it sounded, coming from the lips of a man, that until recently, had been considered to be his nemesis. Shrugging, he begun to remove the layers of clothes, dropping them on the floor piece after piece. "Next time I'll try to make a good deed remind me of this particular moment, ok?"

Rimmer stood up from his bunk and begun to gather the clothes Lister threw carelessly on the floor. He had long before resigned trying to teach his boyfriend any form of tidiness. It seemed that when it came to such a simple thing as folding his shirt, his boyfriend was as capable of learning as a nymphomaniac keeping her legs together.

When ten minutes later Lister emerged from the shower, if this was possible, even more exhausted than before, Rimmer simply steered him to his own bunk and begun working on the tense shoulders. They didn't exchange any words as no words were needed, they both new that routine too well. Besides, Lister was so tired that he could only groan, happily. Who would have thought that under that whole smegginess and arrogance there was a talented massager waiting to surface. It was no surprise really, that only few moments later Lister was dead to the world.

Rimmer lied down beside him and covered them both with a blanket, grinning, when he felt that even in his sleep, Lister snuggled to him. It wasn't perhaps the wisest thing to do to, to use this precious time to study his lover instead of astronavigation but for the first time since he had been preparing for his exams, he felt ready to take them and pass. There was no need for late night revisions, for teaching drugs and cribs because Rimmer actually learned something. It was truly amazing what a gentle smile and a single 'you can do it' could do for a man. He had never experience such ultimate acceptance and it terrified him sometimes, because if Lister left, this absence would kill him.

That's why he was determined to pass this and any other exam, to pick the strayed clothes and keep his tongue in check, he needed to feel that Lister was proud of him. Maybe then he wouldn't have to leave after all.

end


End file.
